If I Ever Hear Wonderwall Again I Am Going To Cut Someone
by Pink Anon
Summary: 1/5 - Wonderwall Continuity. After listening to wonderwall on repeat, 2500 words of vaguely incestuous robot angst materializes in a word document and manifests in a tragic argument and a bit of cuddling and some serious trust issues. Rockblues, actually serious content, rated for implied robot gore.


like all of my rockblues, written for x. this is actually the first of five that kind of go together and sort of fit in with "wires" since they're all in the same continuity but don't all work together if you catch my meaning. the exact order is:

1. "If I Ever Hear Wonderwall Again I Am Going to Cut Someone"  
2. "Androids Dream of Tongues and Teeth" or "Maybe Robot Sex Is Human Sex"  
3. "One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Two Three Four Five"  
4. "Gay Robot Angst Fest Number Thirty-Four And Seven Hundtredths" aka "The One That Will Kill Me To Edit"  
5. "Wires" or "Hey Dominator Call The Shot" or "Robot Sex Is Not Human Sex"

you can basically read them in any order since they don't really connect in chronological order and the order is merely the order they're written. i call these things the "wonderwall" continuity so yeah. enjoy?

* * *

His vision blurs back into view. For once, he's the one being carried out of combat. Blues's first instinct is to struggle.

"Don't worry."

Rock's voice kills that instinct. Blues glances up at the blue-clad warrior and, for a moment, whatever anxiety he has vanishes.

He lets his body relax— at least, what's left of his body. Not like it worries him to have his shield-arm gone and his legs blasted to pieces. This body is falling apart without the help of combat. It's nothing to worry about.

Rock's lips graze his forehead and Blues raises his one working arm and pushes Rock's face away. "Just keep walking," Blues mutters. "Don't you dare make a comment about this. This is _one_ time. If my teleporation systems were online, you wouldn't even have to…"

"You're always telling me to ignore the ifs," Rock teases. "Yet you're using them now."

"…Bah."

"We'll be at the lab soon."

They cover the meters in silence. The only thing Blues can hear is the clanking of his shield and missing limbs. It's almost unsettling. Blues presses his ear to Rock's core and tries to drown out the sound with the mechanical hum, but it doesn't drown out the rattling— and in the back of his mind he knows exactly where they're going and that he's going to be trapped for weeks with his memories and his nightmares. The anticipation of this is now eating away at him. Not even the closeness of his favorite person is making things better. "Why aren't you just porting?"

Rock's jaw tightens. "…Because once we get ho— to the lab," Rock corrects, "you're going to do nothing but yell." The younger machine's voice wavers. "And I don't… don't like seeing you like that."

Blues scowls. "And seeing me in pieces is _better_?"

Rock sucks in his lips and doesn't respond.

They keep walking. Blues tries his hardest to focus on the sound of Rock's "heart" and not on his own dismembered body parts clattering. Finally he snaps, "Just teleport, dammit, I can't stand this."

"…I thought you'd like being carried."

"Don't be a fucking idiot."

Rock squeezes him a bit tighter. "It's just over this hill, Blues. You know this road, don't you? Or are your eyes malfunctioning?"

As a matter of fact, they are not, but he can't quite look around in this position. Moving is a pain, and causes a fair amount of it too, so how is he supposed to know? His internal GPS is glitching to the point where Blues almost wants to shut down and run more debugs, but now that the lab is nearby…

He can feel its presence, one that creeps into his system and freezes his joints to the point where he can barely move.

The worst is yet to come.

—

In the next room, Rock can hear them argue. Blues is never one to be compliant, and Rock knows this well. He was hoping that this time would be different. That he wouldn't have to deal with Blues's snarls of "Don't you dare talk down to me, don't you dare tell me what to do!" and Father's calm statements responding with "I'm hardly telling you what to do. I'm merely saying that you've got everyone worried, and wouldn't you like to help calm those fears? Imagine how many people are depending on you."

The argument swells, with Blues's voice becoming louder and more aggressive as Father's patience wanes. Rock doesn't know why Blues has an innate hatred of this place and its residents. It's not for a lack of trying. He's asked on several occasions, and yet every time the question comes out, Blues finds his ways to avoid it.

(On a good day, it's a soft peck on the lips and a quick change of subject or some other distraction. On a bad day, Blues leaves outright, usually after letting out a stream of profanity and telling Rock to not ask questions about his personal life. Either way, it leaves Rock with more questions than when he started, and it's starting to become a burden on their relationship. Doesn't Blues _trust_ him?)

The one-sided shouting match continues and Rock remains quite content in his hiding spot under the table, resting his head on his knees. The words don't answer any of his questions. It's largely Blues resorting to ad hominem, and Father calmly reminding him about Rock and Roll and Bass and the others, and how they'd want him to have his legs back, and how he's practically bleeding out at this point so why doesn't he just power down like a good little robot and stop shouting so loud.

It's a battle of wills, one that Blues is destined to lose, because eventually Blues resorts to just shouting shut up over and over again, and that usually means that the battle has been won. The cooldown lasts considerably less than usual, and Rock hopes that means that getting Blues repaired won't be a fight anymore.

He hopes for too much.

He slips out from under the lab table and creeps into the room. The sight would, if he had any, make his blood run cold. Blues, shaking and swearing and gripping the side of the lab table, is a mess, and Father leans back in his chair and rubs his temples.

"Blues, you are a headache and a half," Father says. He glances over at Rock. "It's about time you showed up. Have you recharged from the last battle?"

He hasn't. The shouting match kept him from doing so, and yet he found himself unable to stop listening. Even now he's finding it hard to stand and even harder to look at Blues. It doesn't feel right, to see the robot he fell in love with to be so… so shaken. He keeps his eyes focused on Father and doesn't speak. He's unable to lie, and yet he doesn't want to tell the truth.

Father doesn't press him. "Blues, Rock will be here the entire time." Father's voice is soothing, and yet Blues still cringes and reaches for Rock with his good arm.

Rock chooses that moment to look down at Blues and tries to force a smile, but not even his courtesy programming can shield him from the look of utter defeat on Blues's face. That… That plea is not Blues, but some sort of lost child that has taken his almost-boyfriend hostage—

Rock grabs his hand and nods shakily. "Yeah."

And Blues says, in a soft voice, "I'm counting on you."

Rock wants to scream. Fortunately, his emotional overrides kick in. For the next few hours, he feels numb.

—

It does not make logical sense for a robot to have flashbacks, and yet Blues has them. He was, after all, designed to test how far artificial intelligence could go. And, unfortunately for Blues, that experiment seemed to work too well.

Unlike the others, he doesn't have overrides, and he can't swallow his own emotions when he gets caught up in the moment.

(Yet the only time he hates it is when he's trapped around the man who had wanted to take his consciousness away and turn him from a child into a _doll_. And even now he can't say he trusts Light. Even now he feels eyes on him, and wonders how frail the sense of self he's carefully built up really is…)

The lab door opens and Blues, immobilized on one of the recharge tables, expects the worst.

Instead, it's only Rock.

(Rock, who can't look him in the eye. Rock, who looks like he's about to faint. Rock, _who can't handle this without going into override mode._ Rock, who wouldn't _understand_—)

"Are you all right?" His tone and expression are too even.

Blues scowls. "Turn off your override."

"The first law doesn't apply to machines, Blues."

"Then get the fuck out."

"Blues, I only want to check in on you—"

"Then I want to talk to Rock, not a program that filters everything I say."

"Blues, there's a reason—"

"I don't fucking care!" If he could move, he would have punched Rock in the face. "Do you think I can escape from this?! Do you?"

Rock steps back and lowers his gaze. "Override removal could cause data corruption, proceeding is—"

"Not fucking data corruption, emotion."

"Emotion can interrupt processing—"

"Fucking hell," and Blues's voice cracks and it's enough to make Rock wince. "Here I thought you were more than just a machine. That you actually—" Blues trails off.

Rock stays very still and very silent for a few moments. "I'm sorry," he says at last. "I'm sorry, I just— I told you I couldn't stand seeing you…"

Blues wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but his limbs are still immobilized. "However bad it is for you," he spits, "it's worse for me to— to be stuck here and you're more concerned about _your_ feelings than mine. As if— as if this is about _you_."

Rock winces. "I'm sorry—"

"And unlike you," Blues continues, "I don't have this fancy little override that I can use to drown it out. So don't even _start_ with me. Don't. Even."

"Blues—"

"The last thing I need is the only person I trust— to just— stand there and do nothing because he can't stand seeing me in pain." Blues has to pause, because if he starts shouting, Dr Light will hear, and that's the last thing he needs. "I'm not… made of stone, Rock. I wish I was, but I'm not. I don't… like feeling weak, feeling scared, and— and the way you avoid me whenever I get like that doesn't…"

"I'm _sorry_!"

Blues bites the tip of his tongue, then hisses, "Don't you _dare_ put up that override again."

"I-I won't." Rock tugs at his hair, blue eyes blinking back tears. "I just— I see you like that and you don't… You—"

"I don't _what_?"

"You… you never tell me anything, and I don't understand anything about you. It's like you don't want me to see you like that. Like you don't… trust me or— or even want me around. Like I'm…" Rock looks way, hugging himself. "Like I'm bothering you."

So that's what this is about? That Blues doesn't let Rock pry? Blues's jaw tightens.

"I want to help," Rock continues, "I really do. Blues, I— I really… I really love you, I think. I just— I don't know what you want because you never tell me anything! And then you get mad when I don't read your mind or when I ask you what you want or sometimes even over nothing!"

"It's not your business knowing everything about me—"

"I don't care about your past, Blues," Rock interjects. "And you can leave that out, if you want, but… But tell me what I can do now. I don't want to hurt you, Blues, and I don't want to see you hurting if I can help you. So tell me what you want and need and I'll do it."

Blues opens his mouth to speak, but the words won't form. For a minute, the only sound in the room is the hum of Light's computer. Finally, Blues manages to form a coherent thought. "I don't want to be alone right now," he says softly. "I don't… want to be alone at all, if I'm here." He looks Rock in the eye. "And I don't want you to put up that override again around me, unless it's in combat."

Rock finally lifts his head, body relaxing. "…So you… You actually want me around."

Blues has to resist the urge to snap at him. "Yes."

That seems to lighten the young robot's mood. The air's still tense from their bickering, though, and Rock approaches Blues with a hint of caution. "I'm… I'm glad."

"Whatever."

Rock places his hand on the edge of the table, then tentatively asks, "Can you not be so dismissive?"

Blues arches a brow.

"Like," Rock explains, "when I say something, can you not… dismiss it like you just did? It's almost your own override. Whenever I say anything affectionate, you get really… harsh? It… It makes it seem like you don't actually care. I know you do but… But sometimes…"

It's Blues's turn to look away sheepishly. "…Sorry."

Rock reaches forward and brushes his fingers through Blues's hair. "I want to make this work. For both of us. Because I think— I think we need each other, Blues."

Blues wants to laugh, but bites his tongue. And as painful as it is, he forces himself to look back up at Rock and not flinch away from the other machine's soft smile. "…I think we do, too," he mumbles, voice almost cracking from the amount of strain it takes to express his thoughts.

Rock kisses his forehead. "I promise I won't leave you," he whispers, climbing up onto the recharge table next to Blues. "You can rest now. I won't be far."

And for a moment, the fear abates and Blues feels— happy.

And it _hurts_. It hurts to be so— so in love that he's not capable of speaking, of looking someone in the eye, of forming coherent thoughts with Rock's forehead against his cheek. But beneath the pain and the fear of what horrors this sort of trust could to to him, beneath the urge to scream and run and push Rock away—

Beneath that, a small part of him basks in this happiness.

"I love you, Blues."

And Blues just squeaks in response, because he isn't sure he can feel love, or that he's worthy of— of receiving it. But maybe one day, years from now, he'd be able to return those words.


End file.
